


A Chance at A New Life

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Kidnapping, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles is studying to be a doctor at Machester University, and has a certain eye kept on Louis Tomlinson. He knows everything about his beloved, from the fact that he is studying to be a psychologist to the way he sleeps. Harry is no longer satisfied with staring at Louis during class. He has devised a plan to have Louis fall in love with him, whether by choice...or force.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! This is a fic written for meloveniall1994 on tumblr, as I got her for the bottom!Louis fic exchange by the the bottomlouislibrary. I do not normally write any of this material, so I apologize in advance if it is horrible, terrible, and disastrous. My aim is a short chapter once a week, but it honestly depends on how my muse fluctuates. This is unbetaed, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Both wallfuckedlou on tumblr (PuzzlingApproach on AO3) and relinsquish on tumblr helped out by giving me ideas with this fic. I thank them with all of my heart.

Prompt:[ x](http://bottomlouisprompts.tumblr.com/post/62748947573/au-where-louis-and-harry-are-in-the-same-class-uni-or)

 

Harry and Louis were destined to be together. Harry would watch the fringe-haired boy from across the classroom in his neurology class, appreciating the way he laughed at whatever the blonde said. He was fairly certain that Louis’s friend’s name was Niall, and had made certain that they were simply friends.

He sighed, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was watching the pretty boy, propping his chin on his hand and letting the teacher’s monotone voice drone on in the background without actually listening. At one point Louis’s eyes flickered towards him, but Harry didn’t let his gaze flicker away, instead holding cerulean blue eyes with his own forest green. He watched Louis swallow and then turn away, smirking when the boy occasionally glanced his way.

He wasn’t making up anything, it was just simple chemistry. Harry was studying to be a doctor, while Louis was studying psychology. He had been staring at the boy long enough to picture how the contours of Louis’s body would line up perfectly against his, as well as many thoughts about how perfectly his dainty little hand would be swallowed up by Harry’s massive one.

The curly-haired boy sighed, forcing himself to turn back towards the teacher to take the notes that were currently up on the board. He had to keep his grades up; otherwise he would not be able to have this single class with Louis Tomlinson. He heard the shrill ringing sound that signified that class was over, and he let out a collective thankful sigh with the rest of the class before shoving all of his materials back into his book-bag. Attending Manchester was not a problem to him financially, but he was not going to waste the money he paid to attend this school out partying. He had only been to three parties so far this semester; all of them conveniently attended by Louis as well.

“Harry, mate, you really need to stop looking at that guy. Some people are starting to notice and it’s creeping them out.” He felt a hand grasp his shoulder at the same time he heard the familiar voice of his best friend. He could tell that Liam was trying to be lighthearted, but there was a vein of truth running through the statement.

“Sorry, was just staring off into space. Wasn’t really looking at anyone specifically.” Harry responded, the lie slipping easily off of his tongue while he shouldered his bag, spinning around to face his friend with a grin plastered on his face. If it was slightly due to the mental images currently running through his head, well, no one needed to know.

Liam grunted, obviously not believing what the green-eyed man had said. But, as usual, he didn’t press the matter.

“What do you have next?” His friend asked, cutting Harry off before he could even begin to speak. “No, you have a free period next. God, I really don’t want to deal with Jones right now.” Liam complained, leading the way down the steps of the classroom and through the door. Harry tried to look around for Louis, but his favorite boy was lost in the sea of students dashing for the door.

“-is in that class, though, so I think I’ll be alright.” He blabbed on, Harry only managing to catch the tail end of his sentence. It wasn’t hard to figure out who he was talking about, given the fact he stared at Zayn Malik nearly as much as he stared at Louis. However, he didn’t think that their difficult love story extended outside the philosophy classroom like Harry’s did.

“You’ll be fine, just sit in the back and you can catch some shut-eye.” Was his automatic response, not trying to put any effort into empathizing with his friend. Unlike Liam, Harry was actually planning to do something to initiate a relationship between him and the pixie boy. He just needed to pick up a few more materials from the hardware store first.

Liam nodded briefly, offering a short wave before spinning around and heading back down the opposite hall. Harry didn’t bother with any farewells, instead making his way towards the double-doors that were to his right. It was the beginning of fall, and soon enough he would have to start bringing a sweatshirt to class with him. This was evident when the first thing he did after stepping outside was let out a shiver, arms coming up to cross his chest and hold in as much warmth as he could.

He felt a body bump into him, and he turned his head to snap at whoever it was. But the words died from his lips as soon as he noticed who it was, the boy not even bothering to look towards Harry when he said “Sorry, mate” and dashed off after his blonde-haired friend who seemed intent on jumping into the leave piles the janitors had made. Harry didn’t say anything, standing stock-still and clutching his books while he gazed on wide-eyed after the love of his life.

After a few seconds of staring he realized that other people were beginning to give him weird looks. He pacified them with a smile, unable to keep the doe-eyed look off of his face the entire way back to the library.

The green-eyed young man was currently earning his master’s degree at Manchester University. He would go on to earn his doctorate, and then open up his own practice somewhere in the city. He was born in London, but he had decided that he needed a change of scenery when it came time to applying for colleges. Out of the ones he had been accepted to – which was nearly all of them – he decided that Man U would be the most helpful in guiding him towards what he wanted to become. It seemed that he had gotten more than what he bargained for when he first met Louis Tomlinson.

Met, perhaps, was putting it a bit too strongly. He and Liam had an argument on the order of the five stages of grief, and it was one of the few times where Harry was wrong. Their agreement was that if Harry was right, then Liam finally had to start talking to Zayn. And if he was wrong, then he would be forced to attend a party with Liam.

The party was quite generic, at some bloke’s house with a pool and free beer. Liam soon abandoned the curly-haired boy when he realized that Harry wasn’t going to do much else other than sip his drink and people-watch from the porch swing. He had a perfect view of the pool, and ever since a caramel-skinned fringe-haired blue-eyed boy had walked in Harry had been unable to do anything but stare. Since then, he had managed to balance schoolwork alongside figuring everything about him, from his name to what his favorite dessert was. Being smart and filthy rich had its advantages.

From what he could tell Louis did not mind. A few times he overheard his blonde friend acknowledge the fact that Harry seemed intent on keeping Louis in his eyesight – but thankfully his boy had brushed it off. Once Louis had glanced at him in return with a small smile on his face, and Harry had taken enough psychology classes to understand that it was an obvious sign of attraction. His head was tripled in size for the rest of the day, and he did his nightly preparations with even more gusto than before.

He shook his head to rid himself of the flashback, transferring his books to one hand so that he could walk more swiftly towards his favorite coffee shop. Above all else, Harry Styles enjoyed a certain kind of routine to his day. This was but one step in his daily travels, and he would have been able to walk the two blocks to his shop blindfolded. The second he pushed open the door the sweet smell of homemade blueberry scones hit his nose, and he closed his eyes momentarily in bliss. He stepped in line, only having to wait a few moments before he ordered his usual scone and vanilla frappuccino. Precariously balancing his books in one hand and the drink as well as the plate with the scone on it, he made his way towards his usual seat. At one point he had to spin around a group of small children, nearly losing his belongings in the process. He finally managed to sit, letting out a sigh and opening his textbook to that day’s homework.

Just before Harry was about to immerse himself in the functions of the corpus callosum, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.  His annoyance was evident when he dug it out, only glancing at the message preview before rolling his eyes. It seemed that Liam was once again inviting him to a party, an opportunity he would soon decline. Not wanting to waste the effort of responding he simply placed his phone back on the table, screen-side down.

He studied for nearly an hour, the vocab of the lesson coming easily to him. He had more work than usual due to the fact he had not paid attention during class, but it was nothing that he would not be able to handle. He dutifully began studying again when his ears picked up a familiar voice, and his head jerked up in surprise.

“Niall, _Josh_ is the one throwing the party. We have to go.” Harry turned his head enough to the side for a peek at the two sitting behind them, if only to confirm what he already knew. It seems that this time instead of seeking out his presence Louis had come to him. Like a ship and it’s captain, they would never be able to be separated for long. A though occurred to him, and he flipped his phone back over to tap out a text responding to Liam, questioning whether or not the party he was being invited to was indeed the one hosted by “Josh”. He assumed that Josh was someone who did not study anything medically-related, because Harry could name nearly every single person in his classes, but only one or two that were not. He saw no reason in seeking out attention, because there were only a few people that he genuinely enjoyed being around. Liam had been the first – a huge surprise to him – and from there he discovered Louis. And although they had hardly spent time with each other face-to-face, Harry had spent enough time looking onward from his desk to determine that he would enjoy talking with the boy who was currently working on getting his degree in psychology.

Many of his fantasies included the works of Sigmund Freud and M.E. Thomas sprawled open around their bodies, and others included metal instruments that were cold to the touch. He had waves of what he wanted a craved throughout the day, but he always felt satisfied with himself nearing the end. He was sure that Louis would just as willingly participate in these different exploits as he would.

He was brought back from the beginning of his next fantasy involving the coffee shop by his phone vibrating again, confirming Harry’s suspicions. The party that Liam had invited him to was Josh’s, and he skimmed over the rest of the meretricious message questioning why Harry suddenly seemed so interested.

He began eavesdropping again, his shoulders relaxing at the soothing words of his true love. Even something as simple as the conversation he was having with his friend was interesting and soothing to Harry, as it gave him time to appreciate the leggiero voice coming from behind him. Remembering the last thing he had to do, he tapped his final response out to Liam, letting his friend know that Harry would pick him up for the party. Not wishing to answer the inevitable questions about why he finally chose to go to this party, he turned off his phone and slid it back into his pocket.

He started doodling on the edges of his paper, not paying attention to what he was doing and instead enjoying the words being spoken behind him.

“Is he providing the drinks?” The blonde asked, obviously referring to the alcohol.

“So I’ve heard. Why else would we go?” Louis retaliated.

Harry grimaced slightly at the admission. He wasn’t a fan of alcohol, but if his love was choosing to drink at this party it would be easier to carry out his plan. Of course, after he had succeeded, alcohol would be completely banned.

“Good point. Is Zayn going?”

“Yeah, he texted me about twenty minutes ago. Hopefully he doesn’t do something dreadful at the party, remember that time he dyed part of his hair blonde? It was horrid.”

Harry’s doodling paused, taking his thoughts away from tanned skin and soft hair at the mention of Liam’s own beloved. It would be much easier to convince his friend to get a ride home elsewhere then, if he told Liam that he was planning on leaving early. His lips curved up, pleased at how things were beginning to turn out. The stars seemed to align perfectly for this perfect night.

“I’ll text Josh and ask him to put the bleach where no one can touch it.”

“Probably a smart idea, Zayn is mental when he’s drunk.”

The curly-haired man glanced down at his paper, realizing that he had drawn hearts all around the edges of his notes. If it was his homework he would have gotten to work erasing it, but he could keep it for a day when Louis was absent. He finished off the scone he had taken bites of periodically, brushing the dust off of his hands back onto the plate neatly. He stood, gripping his drink in his right hand while balancing his books against his chest with his left arm. After pushing the chair in with his foot he chose to take the entrance that caused him not to pass by Louis’s table. They would see each other at a different time.

The walk back home did not take him long; given the fact he was staying in a house only ten minutes away from campus. He understood how fortunate he was to be able to afford his own home instead of – god forbid – a dormitory or a studio apartment. The house would be the average size for a family of three or four. It had three bedrooms upstairs and multiple downstairs, a kitchen larger than normal, as well as a recently redone and refurnished basement.

The front porch was one of his favorite touches, the new wood stained dark to perfectly contrast the light blue house. After he jogged up the steps to unlock and push open the door, he tossed his books haphazardly on the table that rested next to the grand piano in the front entrance. Keeping the coffee in hand, he strode through the living room and kitchen and down into the basement. A smile was on his face, because he had been looking forward to this night for months. But first – he had work to do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to contact me on Tumblr at meant-to-be-happily :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two, ladies and gentlemen! I'm sorry it's so late, you can blame it on the season three premiere of Sherlock. Crazy week, sitting at home rewatching it over and over again, let me tell you.
> 
> As always, a big thank you to wallfuckedlou on Tumblr (PuzzlingApproach on AO3) for her maybe not giving me ideas, but stimulating my mind enough for me to form ideas.
> 
> This work is unbeta'ed, and all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Enjoy!

Harry leaned over the center console of his car to push the door open for Liam, hopefully urging his slow-walking friend to hurry. He was practically vibrating in his seat and wanted to get to the party as quickly as possible. He had chosen to wear a simple black jacket over a white shirt with his usual necklaces dangling down his chest. The jeans, shirt, and jewelry were his normal apparel but he had chosen the jacket simply for the fact that it had plenty of large pockets. He wasn’t going to walk into the party with a messenger bag, because that would begin to cause unwanted attention. And his number one goal was to go unnoticed; otherwise the rest of his plan would crumble before his very eyes.

“I swear Haz, you shouldn’t be allowed to purchase good cars. You don’t deserve them.”

The man glanced over to see Liam standing outside of his car and just peering in with a faint look of disgust on his face. Harry was sure he would see that look again if his friend was asked to do something vile such as sorting rotting potatoes.  But truthfully, he had no idea what Liam was talking about. Sure, he had an empty water bottle at the bottom of the passenger seat as well as textbooks strewn across the back, but his car was kept relatively clean. His Challenger was a sleek silver, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to take her to the wash in a few weeks so there may be a splatter of bird goo on the back hood. Perhaps he should just let Liam borrow the car for a week and get it returned sparkling clean instead of taking care of everything himself.

Harry didn’t say these words. His response was a sigh, paired with “Just get in and stop complaining. Next time, we can take _your_ car.” He noticed Liam wince and his glance towards the student parking lot where his rusty red truck was parked. Harry had a feeling that it used to be his parents’, but had the decency not to mention it. Liam had gotten in the university on a scholarship and was currently working at the McDonalds down the street to pay for his day to day expenses. He had declined any help from Harry, who instead made sure to get his friend spontaneous and extravagant gifts often, as well as pay for any meals when they chose to go out. It was the least he could do.

He followed Liam’s instructions to Josh’s house exactly, but when they were still a couple streets from their destination he swore to Liam that the music he was hearing came from the party. It turned out he was right when he was forced to park half a block away, shaking his head at the audacity of the school’s attendees. It was a school night, shouldn’t everyone be in studying? If he didn’t have a special task to accomplish, it would definitely be what he was doing.

They walked in silence to the house, and Harry could feel the bass pounding in his chest.  Liam was the one who pushed open the door to the commotion, Harry stepping in a moment later. The curly-haired lad was pleased to see it was nothing short of a college party straight out of television. One glance around the entryway and he could see where the stoners had congregated, and the drunkards, and the wallflowers. A miniature mosh pit seemed to have formed in the living room,  with people moving in what they seemed to think classified as _dancing_ (Harry had been forced to take a dozen classes on the modern waltz – he knew what dancing was) with caramel-colored liquid that could have been a number of things sloshing over their plastic cups.

However, he was here for one person and one person only. Liam drifted off towards the keg that was set up on the visible kitchen table on his own without Harry having to shake him off, which was a major plus. He wasn’t going to immediately enact his plan, because surely leaving so early would draw a few eyes. It would do him well to know where Louis was, because then there wasn't the chance that he could leave on his own. Assuming the worst, Harry chose to join the impromptu mosh pit, pretending to dance in a drunken manner while in reality he was searching for a pair of blue eyes. It didn’t take him long to find Louis who seemed to be on his own with a red cup in his hands, swaying side to side with his eyes closed in bliss. Harry once again made a face at his love drinking something so detestable, and was forced to remind himself that the habit would soon be cured. He made his way slowly but surely towards Lou, going in an arched direction so that he could come up behind his boy and place his large hands against the smaller-boy’s hips. He felt Louis jump and crane a head over his shoulder, undoubtedly wondering who was behind him.

Harry gave a wide smile, leaning down to murmur in Louis’s ear. “Care for a dance?”

The question relaxed Louis, and he nodded towards the green-eyed man in return. They began moving together slowly, Lou’s awkward and erratic movements proving that he had already consumed multiple various alcoholic drinks before Harry had even arrived. The curly-haired man glanced around, wondering if Louis’s friend had, for once, chosen to leave his side. It seemed to be true, and Harry let out a sigh of happiness and allowed his chin to hook over the younger boy’s chin, assuming that he either didn’t care or was too drunk to.

They simple danced in silence for a short while, keeping the same rhythm even as the songs changed. At one point Louis allowed his head to roll back against Harry’s chest, and he had continued to take sips of his drink every few seconds. Soon enough it was low enough that Harry could justify plucking it out of the boy’s hand, leaning forward to ask if he wanted more. “Need a refill?” He said, being sure to enunciate things well so that even Louis’s drunken mind would easily be able to distinguish what Harry had said. When he bobbed his head the green-eyed boy removed his right hand from the boy’s hip and headed for the kitchen to refill the drink. Nobody noticed when he slipped a hand into the pocket of his jacket and brought it back out with his fist closed, and nobody even noticed when he easily used that same hand to press against the tap. At the same time he opened his fist and allowed the blue tablet to fall into the cup at the same time the beer was.

He stepped away from the keg, the entire time feigning innocence while leaning against the counter. At one point he even pretended to take a sip. This, of course, was to blow away any suspicion if someone thought they had seen something off. Another moment and he decided he was easily off the hook, pushing himself from the counter and wading once again through the crowd to find Louis. The boy was in the same spot he was in before, but this time Harry’s place had been taken by an unknown black-haired student. He didn’t move, mainly because he was sure the murderous look he was giving the stranger was enough to send him running. Harry’s thoughts were found to be true when their eyes finally locked and he backed off into the crowd, raising his palms in the universal “no harm” signal. If he had continued for just one more second, Harry wasn’t sure if he would have been able to stop himself from doing something drastic.

After the stranger disappeared back into the crowd Harry slid into the spot he had been previously, hand on Louis’s hip while holding the drip with his other. Louis glanced at him again, a flicker of recognition in his eyes when he raised an eyebrow and held up a hand, obviously wanting the drink. Harry forced his lips to not crook up in a smirk at how sassy Lou was, even if he was sure the small boy wouldn’t be able to stand up on his own right now. Instead he placed the drink in Louis’s hands and his hands back around his waist to rest against his stomach, making sure that Lou drank at least half before he felt satisfied.  Now he just had to wait those twenty minutes for the rohypnol to go into effect.

With what he could accomplish now done, Liam popped into Harry’s mind and he cursed. With his goal in mind for the entire visit he had forgotten about his friend, and knew that Liam would freak out on him is Harry suddenly left him at a party without any notice. Still dancing, he began to look around what he could see of the house, trying to spot a muscular brown-haired man. When it was obvious that he was nowhere in the mosh pit, Harry started intermittently nudging Louis towards the edge of the large group. It was easy to see where he was then, and Harry felt a mixture between revolution and happiness for his friend, who seemed to have finally gotten what he wanted. Or _who_ he wanted, anyway. Liam was straddling Zayn Malik on the loveseat, their lips connected and Harry swore he could see their tongues. It was rather obscene, but he wouldn’t be surprised if both of them were drunk out of their wits and unable to realize that what they were currently doing was not meant for the public eye.

Figuring out that Liam was probably going home with Zayn, Harry relaxed and focused back on the boy in his arms. Even if Liam didn't go home with Zayn, the green-eyed man could always use it as an excuse at a later time. He had half a mind to take a photo of proof – because he was sure Liam would be calling him tomorrow asking if it was a dream, and even when Harry assured him that it wasn’t, Liam would correct him with “proof” he had already written down. Oneirology was something that baffled Harry, but oneirologists were even weirder. He had walked into Liam’s dorm to find him sleeping and then wake him up, only to be screamed at because he was finding out whether or not coconut made his dreams more “vivid and realistic.”

But he didn’t want to sit there and continue staring at them, so he slowly turned and moved his feet to lead both himself and Louis back into the crowd. The way the boy had gone so pliant in his arms was proof that the drugs were working correctly, as well as indistinguishably. There was only one other factor that could possibly screw anything up in his plan now – unless for some reason he got in a car accident on the way home – and that was whoever Louis came to the party with wondering where he had gone. Given the story he overheard earlier that day in the coffee shop, the only option would be Niall. Harry tilted his head up and sent out a prayer that if the blonde’s Irish roots ever decided to make an appearance, now would be the night. After spinning them to the opposite side of the room and peering into the kitchen, he saw that his prayers were answered.

Niall seemed to be doing shots with the host, sitting down at a table with Josh with half a dozen glasses in between them. From a few seconds of observation it was obvious that Niall was winning; however, neither of them looked good and Harry knew that Louis’ presence would not be missed enough to cause any large amount of worry.

Figuring that now would be a good time to leave, Harry took his hands off of Louis’ waist and stepped away to confirm that the full effects of the drug were obvious. When his boy stumbled and started muttering incoherently, he knew that it had worked. Harry wrapped his left arm around Louis’ middle and allowed the fringe-haired boy’s right arm to fall around his shoulders so that it would appear Harry was simply helping take a friend home.

Nobody even took a second glance on their way to the door and across the lawn to his car, and with a small amount of difficulty he managed to open the passenger side and allow Louis to slide ungracefully into the seat. As soon as he was sure that the seat was reclined enough that Lou would not simply roll out, Harry leant forward and let out a whistle, catching Louis’ attention. He lifted a finger and moved it back and forth in front of his boy’s vision, noting how his eyes were constricted and shook as they followed the finger. With a nod of approval Harry straightened up, stepping back and shutting the door.

The drive back did not take long at all, the curly-haired boy glancing over at the beautiful boy sitting next to him frequently. They had no difficulties, and if the neighbors happened to look outside while Harry was taking Louis in, they would see a caring friend helping another. He paused at the front door, turning to glance outside. A smirk was on his face, and he bit his lip. _This_ , he thought, _is going to be fun_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions or comments, feel free to contact me on tumblr at meant-to-be-happily :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long guys! I had a bunch of school stuff going on.
> 
> As always a thank you to wallfuckedlou (PuzzlingApproach on ao3) for assuring me I should not throw out every thing I have ever written.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Louis felt like shit.  When he woke up he didn’t even bother to open his eyes, instead groaning into the pillow that he was lying face-down on. He had a massive headache that felt like a hammer pounding into his brain, and he screwed his eyes even more tightly shut than before, twisting his torso to the side so that he was able to reach for the sheet that had slid down to his hips; rolling over as he pulled it up so that he was partially cocooned in the warmth. He waited a few moments to blink open his blue eyes, wanting the pressure on his head to diminish slightly before facing the world. But when he did, he realized that things were about to become much more complicated than they were before.

 

Because he had absolutely no idea where he was.

 

After a moment of intense thought he realized that he had no recollection of anything that happened after the party, or how he had even gotten here. An unknown panic began to rise in him and he scrambled to sit up, letting out a low groan and bringing a hand to cover his eyes after the room began spinning. Probably not a good idea to sit up too quickly, because the pain he was feeling was at least twice as bad as his worst hangover. Well, previous worst hangover. He refused to become a blubbering mess on the floor, and slowly brought his hand away from his face when he was positive that he was not about to spew chunks across the floor. _Okay Louis_ , he told himself, forcing anything that would not allow him to concentrate into the far corners of his mind.  _Focus._

 

The first step was figuring out where he was, and he quickly determined that he had never been in this place before. He was in a regular bedroom, with pale yellow carpeting and light blue walls. There was a shelf filled to the brim with various books, as well as a dresser on the other side of the room. It was a normal bedroom, but what was unusual about it was the fact that the only window was high up, and small. Louis would barely be able to get one of his shoulders out. A closer inspection gave the information that it looked out onto ground level. A basement then. He thought, refusing to let the dread overcome him. The room seemed to have no personality to it at all, minus the books. Where Louis’s dorm was slathered in posters and quotes and photos of family members, this room’s walls were completely bare. He swallowed nervously, wishing he had a glass of water or anything to drink. He searched his pockets after a moment of clarity, but quickly found that they did not house a phone that he could use to find out where he was.

 

The sound of a shutting door jerked his head up, and he stared at the oak door that seemed to prevent anyone from coming into the room. The noise sounded like it had come from just beyond the door, and he sat up straighter on the bed, also wiping his face so that it was devoid of any expression.

 

He glanced down at the twisting doorknob and raised his gaze to meet the person who was coming in, but he was met with the opposite profile. The stranger was facing away from him and seemed to be carrying a tray of some sort. The man set the tray down on a small end table that was situated by the door, and if Louis wasn’t mistaken it seemed like the stranger was purposely not showing his face.  The only thing that was distinguishable was a mop of curly brown hair.

 

But then the man suddenly spun around, and Louis was unable to stop the shocked expression from expanding across his features.  “I know you!” He burst out, one hand coming up to point at the man standing across the room. “You’re in my neurology class!” The second the half-yelled words were out of his mouth he winced, the abrupt volume of his voice sending another streak of pain through his mind.

 

“Yes, I am.” The now-familiar man agreed, placing his hands behind his back and adopting a casual stance – although, he looked concerned when Louis had shown his pain. The blue-eyed student narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out his name.

 

“Harry! Harry Styles!” Louis said triumphantly, faltering when a smirk appeared on Harry’s face. It looked like the man was proud of himself, which was rather disconcerting to him.

 

Harry stepped forward, and without any warning scooped up Louis’s hand in his own. Louis jerked his hand back reflexively, giving the man a disgusted look. The one he got in return was condescending, and made him feel like a petulant child. Before he could take any means to defend himself his hand was once again snatched up and flipped over; Harry pressing two of his fingers to the prominent vein on his wrist. Louis was too confused by the action that he didn’t try to prevent it, instead staring dumbly at the hand gripping his own. Apparently taking his pulse wasn’t enough, because a few seconds later Harry dropped Louis’s wrist and his hands moved to cup his face. Louis jerked again, stilling only when he was given a glare. He forced himself not to show any signs of weakness – once he did, he was done for.

 

Harry stared into Louis’s eyes, at one point moving to press the back of his hand against Louis’s forehead. All of these had no significant meaning to Louis, but he wasn’t about to point that out and then risk being slapped.

 

After a moment Harry nodded, stepping back and turning to walk back towards the plate he had set on the table. “It seems like the rohypnol has worn off.” He remarked, picking up the tray with what looked like practiced ease.

 

Louis searched his memory for the word, remembering it from his Chemistry class with a burst of shock. “You roofied me?” He squeaked, the pitch of his voice rising in panic.

 

“Yes.” Harry said simply, as if this was a common occurrence. “But honestly, I probably didn’t need to. If you keep drinking like you did last night, you are a few months away from becoming a certified alcoholic.”

 

“It was free liquor.” Louis snapped back, mentally questioning _‘what the hell? This guy just admitted to drugging you and now you're defending your drinking habits?’_.

 

Louis stood swiftly, walking towards the door and grabbing the door handle to rip it open. However, when he discovered it to be locked he realized that things were much more complicated than he first thought. He spun back around, crossing his arms and glaring at the man still calmly lounging on the bed. Harry had set the tray next to him and lent back on his forearms, staring at Louis with a vaguely amused look. It made him feel insignificant, small. Like a child throwing a tantrum and the parent unable to hold back amusement at the simple patheticness of the action.

 

"You haven't earned access to that room yet." Harry said, reaching over to the plate and helping himself to some of the food.

 

"So what, I get a gold star on my sticker chart if I behave?" The blue-eyed boy snapped, crossing his arms and leaning back against the door to see if it gave any indication of being pushed out. Not so much of a creak.

 

"Not in such a physical attribute, but the rewards system could be similar." Harry grinned, patting the empty space next to him invitingly. Louis again, ignored him.

 

"Why are you doing this?" He demanded, forcing his voice not to tremble and stutter so that it would lose focus.

 

"Because I love you, Louis Tomlinson." The curly-haired boy responded easily. The simplicity of the response startled Louis, and he was unable to come up with a suitable reply.

 

Louis was about to say something to attempt to convince Harry that he could let him go and he would never say anything, but Harry stood up and began to walk towards Louis. When he was a few feet away the fringe-haired boy turned to the side and get as far as possible from him, but a rough palm came up and slammed into the wall next to Louis's cheek. Startled, he backed up, but was soon stopped by the man's other arm on the other side of his body.

 

Louis finally turned to press his back against the door again, trying to be as small as possible in this cage of limbs. His gaze was kept on the floor, and he was unable to look up into his captor's green eyes. He felt Harry shift and move towards him; Louis tensing up and closing his eyes while the man's lips descended to brush across his shoulder, up his neck, and then down his jaw. He shivered uncontrollably, turning his head to face away and screwed his eyes shut ever tighter. He felt Harry's hand move back down, and Louis was preparing for the worst when he heard the clink of a key and the twisting of the doorknob. He couldn't move at first, only scrambling out of the way only when he felt the door moving him forward.

 

The curly-haired man left without a word, the click of a lock going into place harsh in the now-silent room. Louis was able to hold himself upright for another few seconds before his knees buckled and he slid back down, arms going around his knees to hold himself together.

 

A few more seconds and a blue-eyed man alone in a room tilted his head forward and began to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr at meant-to-be-happily :)


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